


Darling and Dead

by sirimiriii



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirimiriii/pseuds/sirimiriii
Summary: Set prior to Red Dead Redemption 2, but with significant spoilers for the whole game. Dutch and the O'Driscolls' feud is reaching its point of no return. His lover, Annabelle, worries.





	Darling and Dead

**ANNABELLE**

Dutch comes back late to camp ever night, boisterous and proud. He's high on victory and everyone is there with him. Tonight is like any other night; he's congratulating himself, his whole little family on their job well done. They've stolen yet another score right from under the O'Driscolls and _there's no way they'll get the drop on us_ , he says.

I don't want to be cold, but it all feels like a ticking bomb to me. I know him well enough to know what he'll tell me though, so I just smile and sit by the fire. Dutch is a man who you're either with or against and against all odds, I love this man. I didn't want to, but in the end, he made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

Now he catches my eye across the fire, the reflection dancing in his eyes.

"Annabelle," is all he says.

"Dutch," is all I say.

He stands, heading for our tent. Without hesitation, I follow him. He turns the moment I'm close enough, crushing me to him. Our lips meet and like always, I'm swept away. He lifts me up and carries me into the tent to our narrow bed.

Mama called him a wicked man the second he walked into our lives and maybe she was right, but he swore they never shot anyone who didn't deserve it and always gave to those who needed it. To me, that didn't sound so bad. Mama, of course, wasn't so easily convinced. I wasn't surprised; I am her only child, the one she pinned all her hopes on, and I ran off with an outlaw the first chance I got, but she knew I would.

I will never forget the morning I left, trying to be quiet so as not to wake her. I didn't have to fear that, though, since she was already awake and waiting for me downstairs. My breath left my body and we just looked at each other. She looked grim. I waited for words of discouragement and disappointed, but at first she said nothing. We just continued to look at each other.

"There is no future," she began, "with an outlaw, especially one like Dutch Van der Linde, and I wish a girl as smart as you would see that."

"I love him," I told her.

"I know you do. I've known for months. I've seen his boys come by here with tokens for you. I've seen him bring you home. I've even seen those _girls_ he sends to bring some propriety to the matter for the neighbors. Does he hope to win my favor?" She chuckled, waving a hand. "No, Ann, don't say a thing. I know he doesn't want to win a thing from me. I'm an old woman of no consequence. He's got you, a jewel in his crown."

"What are you -"

"My sweet Annabelle, when I die, he will ride in here with you and lay claim to all the worldly possessions I leave to you because you are his woman. He picked his target carefully. Why do you think he is the way he is?"

"Oh, Mama -"

"You will see. The way he dresses, that oh-so-fancy manner, it will pass. You will want to come home. I give it a month, if that."

My stomach turned.

"I am disowning you, Annabelle. You can tell your man that. See if he keeps you then."

Before I could process what she had even said, she had gone back upstairs. I felt like I'd been slapped. I'd expected her dissatisfaction, but never had I expected to be disowned. Maybe she'd meant to hurt me enough that I'd run to her and beg to stay. I'm not sure, even now, but I left all the same.

To his credit, Dutch never asked what happened between us. He didn't even seem bothered when I never offered up my own earnings while I adjusted. It wasn't until Susan, who was really the camp's mistress, suggested I start contributing that he even asked me if I'd brought anything with me. I confessed I had little and expected nothing from my mother. He looked shocked, but told me that, unlike my mother, he would never abandon me.

It bound me to him, more than our love did, so even when I felt us hurtling toward some kind of ruin I continued to keep my mouth shut. I even resisted saying anything to Arthur who often asked me what was wrong. Abigail seemed to think there was something wrong with my relationship and tried to press the issue with me, but I waved her away. I knew if I admitted anything to her John would know and John would tell Dutch.

For his part, Dutch tries to get me to admit what's bothering me. The next night, after a day of fishing with Arthur and Hosea, he takes me aside and warns off everyone else.

"Are you leaving me?" he demands.

"No," I say, "I wouldn't."

"Annabelle -"

"Why would I leave you?"

"Something's wrong."

We stare each other down.

"Tell me!" he insists.

"I'm worried about this ongoing feud with the O'Driscolls."

He laughs in the way I love so much. "Oh," he murmurs, "you don't got to worry about no O'Driscolls any longer."

"Explain?"

"I killed Declan O'Driscoll today." He seems almost proud. "That one was an animal compared to Colm, darlin', and it'll warn Colm off. You'll see."

I press my lips together and he takes me by the shoulders.

"I executed my plan _perfectly_ , Annabelle. _Trust_ me."

"I always do," feels almost wrong to say right now, but I say it anyway.

He smiles, unworried, and leaves me to speak business with Hosea. I retreat to our tent because I need to think. I'm relieved a man like Declan O'Driscoll is dead, but the fact that Colm is still alive is something to worry about and I know he'll be looking for revenge. Declan, after all, was his brother. I worry for Dutch.

I sit down hard on the bed, taking a long breath.

"He told you, did he?" Arthur says from the tent opening, arms crossed. "I'm sure we're thinking the same thing."

"Did you even go fishing?" I ask, thinking that's beside the point.

"No."

"What happened?"

"I don't rightly know, to be honest. You know how Dutch is. He makes his plans and we just follow along as best we can."

"So, you are worried?"

Arthur seems to consider his next words carefully and it doesn't surprise me. Dutch considers him like family, like a son really. I've never known Arthur to question any move Dutch has ever made in all the time I've known him.

"In some ways," he says finally, "but I trust Dutch to know what's right and what's not. Colm's less of a problem than Declan, though, that I know for sure."

"I suppose," I allow.

"It'll be fine. Trust Dutch."

I nod and he lopes away. I can't help but think Dutch sent him to check me. My heart constricts. Dutch is not a bad man. I will never say that, but I worry he is concerned there is a conspiracy waiting for him as he views things as so black and white.

I lie down and wait for sleep to claim me.

Later, I wake up to movement in the tent and open my eyes, thinking nothing much of it. I sit up slowly, trying to get my eyes to focus in the dim light. I can hear the others laughing nearby. I can even hear Dutch's voice. I freeze.

"Hello, Miss Annabelle," says Colm O'Driscoll, smiling.

I try to cry out, but he is too fast for me and suddenly, everything goes black.

When I wake up, my head hurts, and my hands and legs are tied together. I don't know how much time has passed, but it's still dark. I can hear the murmur of voices, but I can only recognize Colm's.

"... won't be long ..."

" ... stupid ...."

"I ... think ... Declan ..."

My brain can't make sense of anything they're saying because it's buzzing from the pain still blooming from the back of my skull.

"... will come ..."

I close my eyes, trying to will it away.

 

**ABIGAIL**

Annabelle has been acting strangely for weeks and I've come to think of her as a friend. Her absence from the fire worries me more than I can say. No one else seems to mind too much. Not even Dutch who seems to like to have her nearby whenever he can. I wonder if she's sick. My eyes stray over to their tent. I suppose it couldn't hurt if I looked.

I kiss John's cheek, earning a quizzical look from him, and leave the fireside. I feel a few gazes on my back as I head over to the tent, but they seem to have more interesting things to look at as they appear to divert away as I get to the tent entrance.

"Annabelle?" I say. "Are you awake in there?"

She doesn't respond, but I take the initiative to open the tent fold and find she isn't there. Normally, a thing like that wouldn't bother me, but Annabelle is a something of a lady and the place is a mess. She keeps it tidy at all times. The bedclothes are on the floor, haphazard, and it looks like there are muddy footprints everywhere. Dutch wouldn't dare track mud or dirt in here. He is meticulous to a fault like she is.

My heart leaps to my throat, noticing a note pinning to the askew pillow with an arrow:

_Dutch,_

_This is for my brother._

"Dutch!" I yell, hitching up my skirts to scurry back to the fire. "Dutch!"

Dutch is unbothered by me, glancing up. "Yes, Abigail?" he says calmly.

"Annabelle is gone! I went - she's been taken!"

He pales instantly, taking the note I've offered to him immediately. He crushes it instantly. " _Colm_ ," he spits.

"Colm _took_ Annabelle?" Hosea says, shocked.

"Looks like it." Dutch is all tensed up. "We're getting her back. I won't lose Annabelle. Mount up _now_. Bill, I want you to stay here with the ladies. Keep them safe."

Bill looks put out to stay behind, but nods. Dutch turns his attention to me, grasps my shoulder and takes a deep breath.

"I will bring her back, Abigail."

"I know you will, Dutch." I say, because I believe him.

There isn't anybody in the world that Dutch loves more than Annabelle. I'm not sure what Colm O'Driscoll was thinking taking her straight from camp. They can't have gotten far. Javier is a good tracker; I know they'll find them and I'm sure there won't be any more O'Driscolls in the state when they do.

"Be careful," I tell them anyway, because I want them to be.

They saddle up and in a peal of thunderous hooves are gone.

"Stealing a lady straight from bed?" Susan harrumphs. "Perhaps Colm O'Driscoll is just like his brother."

"He's gonna face an end just like his brother," Bill declares, "as soon as Dutch gets a hold of him."

"They'll be safe, won't they?"

"Don't you worry, Miss Roberts, of course they will be. Why don't you help me get a late night meal started? Those boys'll be hungry when they get back? Not to mention our poor young miss!"

I let Susan lead me away to start on a late night stew, but I don't miss the look in Bill's eyes. He seems worried. Bill never worries, but maybe it's because he knows how Dutch feels about Annabelle. It could be that Dutch might lose his head with her on the line. Maybe that's what Colm is hoping for. I sure hope not. Dutch is the glue that keeps us all together. Thanks to him, I have a family and a man I love (most of the time). I couldn't imagine life without Dutch.

I close my eyes and give myself to a one-time prayer.

_Please bring them all safely home._

 

**ANNABELLE**

Shouting wakes me from my pained slumber. I'm sure I'm hearing gunshots too. Ropes bite painfully into my wrists and ankles. My situation comes rushing back to me. I try to focus on what's going around me, but it's a flurry of movement. My head hurts too much for that.

"Annabelle!" I know that voice. "Annabelle, I'm coming!"

I twist a bit, trying to figure out where that beloved voice is coming from. If I could just make it there, I would feel somewhat better. In my current state, I'm not sure exactly who it is, but I know getting to them is a good idea. I try to worm my way over.

"Not so fast, miss." I know that voice too and it is an unwelcome one. "You and I are not done."

A boot presses down hard on my back, tears squeezing out of my eyes.

"He's coming, just like I knew he would."

"Please stop!"

He just laughs and it becomes clear that my fate is sealed. Colm O'Driscoll is going to kill me. A feeling of fright takes me in its icy grip as his boot presses down further. Adrenaline somehow cancels it out, but I can't move, bound as I am.  
  
"Annabelle!"

_Please look away._

"Hello, Dutch."

_You need to look away._

"Don't you dare."

_Please, please look away._

"You signed the death warrant, Van der Linde."

_I love you._

"Leave her out -"

There's a loud bang.

 

**ABIGAIL**

The men return late enough that the stew's gone cold. I go to greet them, searching for Annabelle among them, but she isn't there. I look at John and he shakes his head. My legs buckle underneath me and he's off his horse in seconds to be next to me.

"Dutch?" Susan says, approaching him.

I look over in time to see him wave her away as he heads for their - _his_ tent.

"Hosea?" Susan looks gutted. "What on earth happened?"

"Colm killed Miss Annabelle." Hosea sounds as gutted as she looks. "We buried her once we drove them away. I don't ... Dutch hasn't said a word."

They look over at the tent and then back at each other.

"He'll need time." Susan says. "He loved the lady."

"We all did." Hosea murmurs. "I suppose it's only right I send her mother a letter too."

"The old crone's alive still?"

"Seems so."

"I think that's best."

John helps me stand. Annabelle wasn't my only friend in the world, but she was always kind to me and I know her loss will be acutely felt by us all for some time. I also know that this O'Driscoll feud will never end now. Maybe Dutch started it. Maybe he should never had killed Colm's no-good brother, but at least the brother deserved it. Annabelle never deserved it.

John squeezes my shoulder. "You all right, Abigail?" he whispers.

"Not just yet, but I will be." I say honestly.

He squeezes my shoulder again and we go to sit with Uncle at the fire. The old man looks at us, tears in his eyes. Annabelle was the kindest of all to him, I recall just then. She was the only one of us who never told him off for never doing anything.

"I want to believe the young lady's in a good place now," Uncle says, "and that I'll see her again."

"Me too," I say.

John nods slightly, rubbing my back a little. He struggles a little, John, but he's a good man in a pinch, I realize. I lay my head on his shoulder.

We'll get through this together.

 

**LATE 1899**

It sits out of the way, hidden under an outcropping, with little lavender flowers surrounding it. The grave-marker is simple with the name 'ANNABELLE' carved large and neat. It is weathered from age, but carefully tended to. Dutch comes here when he can or when he needs a moment. Today, he needs a moment.

He crouches down in front of it, putting a hand on the cross.

"Arthur's dead," he says quietly, "and I let it happen, just like I let you happen."

The wind whispers through the trees above and he closes his eyes as if waiting for a response to be on the wind. Of course there will be no answer. There is never an answer, but he always hopes. He wants her counsel.

"I let a lot happen," he continues, "and good men died. _Hosea's_ gone. Guess you know that. Take good care of them for me, will you, darlin'?"

He lapses into silence again, considering. He takes the same consideration with her as he would with anyone else, as if she were the flesh and blood woman he knew once. Things would be different, he was sure of it, if Colm hadn't done what he did, but he got his revenge for that. He'd made sure he died even if he didn't do it himself. It was satisfying watching the law do it in some way.

"I miss you, I hope you know that." He pauses, thinking again and looking upward. "I suspect I won't be coming around anymore. Not for a while, anyway, but I ...well, I needed to come here. I'll be seeing you, Annabelle. Sooner than later, I bet."

He stands, touching the cross once more before turning away and walking back to his horse.

_Farewell, my darling._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my fic. This was truly a joy to write, despite the sad content. It was fun playing with my writing style and the different point of views. Thank you for reading!


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